


a pearl in my ocean, a raindrop in my forest

by ang3lba3



Series: Lie Back and Think of England [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels in Heat, Arranged Marriage, Asexual Castiel, Asexual Character, Blow Jobs, Castiel in Heat, Confessions, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Wing Oil, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:59:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4295091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang3lba3/pseuds/ang3lba3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>The wedding had been horrible and stifling and Dean had to wear a frigging bow tie. He hated bow ties, hated most ties, had been strangled a few times too often to like anything tight around his neck. He wanted nothing more than to throw himself into a cool shower and then flop on the luxurious looking bed, but there was the...</em> consummation<em> of the marriage to worry about.</em></p><p>In which there's an arranged marriage, accidental confessions, and soul damning blow jobs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a pearl in my ocean, a raindrop in my forest

Dean collapsed in the chair by the bed in his - or maybe he should say  _their_ \- honeymoon suite. The wedding had been horrible and stifling and Dean had to wear a frigging bow tie. He  _hated_ bow ties, hated most ties, had been strangled a few times too often to like anything tight around his neck. He wanted nothing more than to throw himself into a cool shower and then flop on the luxurious looking bed, but there was the...  _consummation_ of the marriage to worry about. It wouldn't be such a big deal, except Castiel - his husband and God, that would never stop being weird, being married to an angel he'd never met before he walked down the aisle - was a virgin. And it was even a bigger deal in angel culture to lose your virginity than in human culture, and in human culture it was a pretty fucking big deal. Normally Dean would say fuck it, let's say we did and don't, but Cas wasn’t exactly human, and right now he had physical characteristics only belonging to those who hadn’t... yeah. Who hadn't 'yeahed'. Even just a hand job from someone else would … they’d be good. The symbolic union the delicate treaty between humans and angels rested on would be secure, and Dean would be free to do what he wanted for the first time in forever. Sure, he'd still be general of the Hunters (humanity's united force against angels), but there would be no war. And it wasn't like Castiel hadn't consented.

That didn't stop him from feeling like he was gonna be molesting the guy.

He has to keep reminding himself that it isn't wrong, that it’s not rape to touch his husband like that. But it feels damn cold and clinical, so he stays hunched over in his chair where it's safe. Castiel wasn’t helping, stripping the way he did and then just laying there on the bed expectantly.

Staring.

“Look, Cas, I’m not really so sure about this whole.. consummation thing-”

“Am I not pleasing to the eye?” Castiel asked, squinting a little first at the nickname and then harder when Dean started expressing doubts.

Dean shifted uncomfortably from where he was sitting on the chair to sit next to Cas. It was progress, he thought, though he couldn't bring himself to touch the angel. “Can’t we just don’t and say we did?” he pleaded, already knowing the answer.

Castiel sat up sharply, crossing his arms. “No, Dean Winchester, we cannot. My wings still have yet to fully develop their oil glands and they will not until you bring me to orgasm. I understand that this is distasteful to you, but we have our duties.”

Duties. Christ.

“Cas, your first time - I mean, it shouldn’t -” Dean paused, struggling for words. It was harder than he thought it should be, but he was also desperately trying to avoid staring at Cas’ cock, at his wings, at the sharp jut of his hip bones. “Not like this,” he finally managed.

“I could not wish for a better way than by serving Heaven.” Castiel said.

Dean groaned and dropped his head in his hands. “Just lie back and think of England,” he muttered.

“Are you even, I mean, are you even into guys?” Dean asked pleadingly, gesturing at Cas’ soft cock. He wouldn’t put it past Zachariah to try and sabotage the marriage by sending someone incapable of sealing the deal.

Castiel tilted his head. “I don’t understand the question.”

“How do you not-” God, but angels were weird. “Attraction, arousal, do you look at men and think ‘I want to fuck that’.”

Dean’s - Christ, Dean’s  _husband -_  shook his head.

“Shit,” Dean breathed. “Shit.”

“I don’t see how this is relevant. It is our duty to-”

“Cas!” Dean said, half hysterical. “Of course it’s relevant! I don’t - if you don’t even want me, how is this going to work? How is any of this going to work?”

“If you’re doubting my ability to maintain an erection and orgasm,” Castiel started.

“Oh my God,” Dean groaned. “I’m married to a fucking robot.”

Castiel looked - well, he looked good enough to fuck for the rest of Dean’s life, but more than that in the blank lines of his face Dean could read impatience and exasperation.

“If you are incapable of doing the same, pills to assist us have been provided,” Castiel said in what was probably supposed to be a helpful tone.

“That is  _not_ the problem.” Dean laughed, an edge of hysteria to it. “The problem is, I’m about to take the virginity of someone who doesn’t even want to be here.”

“It is my duty to be here,” Castiel said stiffly. “It is an honor to serve and protect my people through this pact.”

Dean put his head between his knees and took deep breaths. He thought he heard Castiel sigh, and then a hand was reaching out to take his. At first, he thought it was a gesture of comfort, but then Cas tugged his hand and put it on skin far too velvety smooth to be anything but-

Dean squeaked, falling off the bed in his effort to jerk away as quickly as possible. A voice whispered in his head that this was NOT the kind of jerking that he was supposed to be doing.

“Dean,” Cas said, in a voice that was obviously supposed to be reassuring but was far too flat to reach that. “If it makes you feel any better, I have not felt attraction such as you speak of to anyone. I’m often referred to as a eunuch among my fellow soldiers. I believe that I was chosen to render this treaty void, but I will not allow that to happen. I will not allow you to destroy the fragile peace between our peoples. Do you not have family?”

Oh, but that was a low blow, and Dean knew Castiel knew it. “Yeah.” he said from where he was face first on the floor. He had fallen there and decided to stay where it was safe.

“Think of them.” Castiel suggested.

Dean groaned.

Thinking of Sammy was not nearly as helpful towards reaching arousal as Castiel might have thought, and Dean could practically hear the squint of confusion.

“I just - we don’t have to do it right away. We have the entire honeymoon to figure it out,” Dean said, turning his head so he wasn’t eating carpet as he spoke. “I - can we get to know each other? Maybe that will… Look, it’s not a duty. You should think of yourself, and I can’t - it isn’t right.”

“Dean,” Castiel said firmly, and when Dean levered himself up to his knees and glanced up his husband was stroking his cock. “I want this. I want you.”

Well, this was obviously just a change in tactic, but it seemed to be working, because Dean’s dick perked up and it was suddenly hard to breathe. He’d never seen anything as gorgeous, and it hit him hard in the gut.

“God, I’m so going to hell for this,” he said.

Dean got up, arranged Castiel so he was lying more comfortably, and swallowed Cas’ dick down despite the implications to his eternal soul. Cas made a strangled noise, looking rather surprised, like he honestly hadn’t expected that to work, and had never imagined it could feel this good.

It was the hottest thing Dean had ever heard, and it took every piece of morality he’d ever had drilled into his head not to unbutton his pants and shove his hand inside his boxers.

And maybe Cas didn’t really want to be here, and maybe this was wrong, but when he came down Dean’s throat he made something not unlike a whimper and laid on the bed looking extremely confused.

“I.” he frowned. Dean wanted to applaud such open expressions on his face, but was too busy twitching with the need to come to do anything but bite his lip until he was bleeding. “That was enjoyable.”

Dean huffed a laugh.

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the bathroom. “If you need me, holler.”

Cas looked at him with a lost expression on his face, and Dean pressed a kiss to his stomach without thinking about it first, blushed so hard he thought he might pass out, and beat a hasty waddling retreat.

 

The next two days of the honeymoon passed with less awkwardness than Dean would have assumed. Cas had a wonderful grasp of the English language (and several others) but very little understanding of the slang within and even less understanding of pop culture references. They spent most of the time with Dean introducing Cas to essential games (how did he not even know what Uno was, Jesus H. Christ), music (when Dean brought up the Rolling Stones, Cas thought that Dean was going to roll round stones down a hill with him and see whose went fastest, apparently a popular enough past time that Cas lit up like a friggin lightbulb when he mentioned them), and movies (he didn’t know who the Three Stooges were, or Bonnie and Clyde, or Freddy, or Jason, or-), plus the essential TV shows (Buffy. He’d never heard of  _Buffy,_  or Star Trek, or Star Wars, fuck it was the universe being funny wasn’t it, that Dean was married to someone who not only had no attraction to - to anything, but also who didn’t understand references to Back to the Future).

The upside of the whole mess was that he got to introduce Cas to everything himself. He got to see his expression when Darth Vader turned out to be Luke’s father - “Dean, what is happening?! DEAN!” - and when Dean played a song he particularly liked.

And then it all changed when the fire nation attacked.

More specifically, the fire nation on Cas’ sex drive when his oil glands opened. He walked around half dazed and bumping into walls, looking extremely uncomfortable and unsure of himself. The smell drove Dean to distraction, and he alternated between taking very, very cold showers and shoving his face as close to Cas’ back as he could without looking like he was doing so.

“Dean,” Cas said finally, breaking the sexually tense silence that had been there for around five hours. “Can we - I want to have sex with you again.”

Dean almost flung himself at Cas, but managed to show some restraint. “Are you sure? Because I know you’re not attracted to me and-”

“I don’t need to be attracted to you,” Cas said bluntly, staring Dean in the eye. He had a distracting habit of doing that, of staring straight into Dean’s eyes as if he was reading his mind and scouring his soul - fuck, he was an angel, he probably was. “I need someone to copulate with.”

“You sure know how to make a guy hot under the collar,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. But he was climbing into Cas’ lap and shoving his face into Cas’ neck to mouth at his skin at the time, so the impact was a little lost.

They fucked for what seemed like days, and Dean would never tell anyone, but he cried several times with how good he felt. He’d been briefed on the aphrodisiac effect of a newly mated angel’s oil glands but - God, how was he supposed to know that it was like this? Cas was more than half out of his mind with it, although Dean had the horrible feeling that in this Cas would reach the same amount of arousal with a fleshlight or a dildo. Mostly because when he did get up to get himself food or water or use the bathroom, Cas was just as happy fucking himself on his fingers as he was on Dean’s dick. One notable time, Cas bent himself in half to suck his own dick in his mouth, and when Dean got back, unbent with a relieved sigh and said, “You can put much more in your mouth. Would you mind?”

It was more than a little damaging to his ego, but he supposed that it made sense. He’d done some research on the internet while Cas was knocked out after the first time they had sex, and he was pretty sure Cas was something called ‘asexual’. It wasn’t personal, he knew, it was just the way Cas was.

The third time they passed out, when they woke up Cas’ oil glands had calmed down enough that they didn’t immediately need to fuck. They still smelled sweet enough that Dean wanted to suck on them like a lollipop (and boy, had he) but in a way a really good dessert smelled. Not the kind of way that made him want to fuck Cas senseless. In fact, he was fairly certain he might never have sex again after the number of times they did it. His ass was sore, and his dick was chafed, he was covered in fluids he didn’t want to think too hard about and-

And staring at Cas, those sleepy but still piercing blue eyes, the absolute mess of his dark hair and the graceful lines of his body, he thought he might be more than a little in love.

_Fuck._

After Dean’s realization, the most surprising thing was that he managed to act exactly the same. He’d fallen face first into unrequited love before, of course. The internet had said that people like Cas could have happy romantic relationships, but with the way Cas brought up duty at least once every two hours, Dean doubted that was what this was ever going to be. It was getting harder not to snap at him when he did it, with that face like he was looking for something in Dean as he said it.

Because Dean had accepted his ‘duty’ fully and completely and above the call. He cooked for Cas in the little kitchenette (“I don’t require human sustenance Dean.” “Shut the fuck up and eat your friggin waffles, Cas.”), put blankets on him whenever he so much as shivered (“I am perfectly capable of regulating my internal temperature on my own.” “Shut the fuck up or I’ll cuddle you too.” “I-” “Cuddling now, no take backs.”) and pressed absent kisses to Cas’ forehead and cheeks (“Why did you do that?” “…” “Dean?” “Gotta get in the habit for when we’re in public, don’t we?” “Yes, but-” “Just watch the TV, Cas.”).

And it was great. It was better than great.

If Cas would just stop fucking mentioning how it was all for the good of human and angel relations.

The last straw happened while Dean was frying chicken for fajitas.

“Zachariah will be pleased at our progress,” Castiel noted from where he was chopping tomatoes. Man was good with a knife, military had done that much for him. “We appear to be a fully functional couple, and your emotions towards me have improved significantly since our wedding.”

Dean took the pan off the burner with a deep breath, because he had been raised hungry and he wouldn’t burn the food just so he could yell at Cas. No matter how much of a dick he was being.

“You need to stop, okay?” Dean said, attempting for a semblance of calm. It came out gritted through his teeth anyways. “I can’t - you can’t - if you know, then stop throwing it in my fucking face all the time.”

Cas frowned, opened his mouth. Dean suddenly couldn’t stand to hear what he had to say. That Dean had done a service for his country and that he should be proud? He’d said as much before.

“No!” Dean yelled, and it was significantly louder than he’d wanted it to be, but he didn’t care now. “You can’t - no! I can’t take this anymore. You know I -” he couldn’t get the words out, even now. “You know how I feel, and reminding me constantly that you’re only here because of  _duty_  - God, I never wanna hear that word again.”

“How you feel.” Cas said flatly. It sounded judgemental to Dean’s furious and embarrassed ears.

“Yes! How I feel you fucking asshole. I know you can see my soul, I know you know, and bringing up Zachariah - that’s just low. You must know what he did to me to make me agree to this but since you’ve obviously forgotten here’s a refresher: he tortured and almost killed Sam in front of me until I said yes. Yes to whatever he motherfucking wanted and what he wanted was for me to  _marry_ you, and you tell me he would be  _pleased_  by… “ Dean shook his head in disgust. “Fuck, I can’t believe you. I thought you were better than that. Better than them.”

“Dean,” Cas started, the blood drained from his face, looking for all the world like he might pass out.

“Oh, someone doesn’t like being reminded that they aren’t all angels used to be cracked up to be,” Dean said mockingly. “Well guess what, _sweetheart,_  but I’d almost rather fucking die than have fallen in love with you.”

And that wasn’t true, but shit, he was angry and he was tired and he was so humiliated he felt like he could die.

“Dean,” Cas said more firmly, speaking over what Dean tried to say next. “I haven’t been mocking you. I had no idea - I didn’t. I thought it helped. To remind you that. It didn’t, obviously. I apologize.”

Dean paused, tried to look at Cas objectively through his righteous fury. He looked - he looked guilty, and pitying and confused and…

Oh shit.

Dean’d said he loved him, didn’t he?

“Can’t you - can’t you read minds?” Dean said weakly.

Cas nodded. “Yes. I swore to you that I would never do so without your explicit permission or in case of dire circumstances, do you remember?”

The wedding and reception were a blur, but Dean thought maybe - but. God. He could just disappear right now, forever, melt into a puddle of mortification. Even when he had imagined Cas finding out, he’d thought that it would be, that Cas, that he’d want… just, not really thought it, but hoped. He knew Cas would never really see anything in him besides a human whose soul wasn’t qualified for heaven, but who was the general of an army big enough that they married him to an angel and let him in anyways.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said lamely, and it was hard to breathe.

“Dean-” Cas started, taking a step forward.

“No, it’s cool, I totally understand. You don’t have to - you don’t owe me anything, I know, and this must make things so fucking awkward for you. I can…” Dean trailed off, unsure what he could do. Cas took his arm, and he flinched reflexively away from the way he wanted to lean into the touch.

Cas didn’t let go.

“I don’t know if I return your feelings,” Cas said, somehow making eye contact even though Dean was trying desperately to look anywhere but at him. “I don’t feel insects in my stomach like they do in the movies we watch, or an overwhelming urge to copulate with you, or the desire to put my tongue in your mouth at any available opportunity.”

Dean snorted despite himself, despite the deep curl of rejection in his stomach.

“I feel - towards you -” Castiel frowned, as if thinking very hard. That stupid, stupid flare of hope that had never truly gone out flickered as it rose higher. When he spoke again, it was haltingly, and with intense concentration. “I don’t mean to look at your soul, I’ve been told it’s rude to observe a human’s emotional state without their permission and knowledge. But I see it on accident sometimes, and it is the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Dean frowned. Was this letting him down easy? The little hope in his stomach whispered  _he wants you._ “What?”

Castiel leaned in, looking a little desperate. “It doesn’t make any sense. I was there for the beginning of creation. I have seen stars formed from dust, the miracle of birth in every species that has ever been, the most aesthetically pleasing humans humanity has ever offered, the shine of Lucifer - who the angels agree is the most beautiful of God’s creations.”

The grip on Dean’s arm was bruising, but he didn’t speak, terrified to interrupt whatever this confusing stream of compliments was.

“When I see you, I get warm.” Castiel shook his head. “I’ve never felt warm. Angels don’t - we keep a consistently neutral temperature at all times. I only know the sensation because of my vessel’s memories before I released him to join his family in heaven. There is an… ocean of emotion inside of me that I am wholly unfamiliar with, and unless I remind myself that it is only for duty, I will lose myself in it.”

He looked terrified, and without thinking Dean reached up a hand to grip the fingers closed over his forearm. Cas stared at them, lost. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean said gently, because he had a good idea of what Cas was feeling, what with feeling it too. “I want you to look at my soul. I think it’ll - it’ll help.”

“I - you would allow me to do that?” Cas said, a naked want in his eyes that had always been missing when they had sex, and yeah, maybe Dean was starting to understand this asexual thing a little better.

To be honest, Dean didn’t know if he wanted Cas to look at his soul. It was terrifying, no matter how much Cas said that he thought it was beautiful. He’d never had doubt about his physical appeal, but his soul? Thing had been kicked around and scarred and passed around like a party favor back when he made that deal to save Sammy and then systematically killed each demon who held the contract (always a little too late to getting the one who held it until one day he wasn’t and well, if he ended up selling his soul anyways at least it was to heaven).

Dean took a deep breath. “Yeah, Cas. Yeah. I trust you.”

And God, but did he.

Cas made a little hiccup of pure emotion, an awed look on his face that grew more amazed by the moment. Dean felt more naked than he had in his life, heart pulsing out of his chest the longer he looked. It took everything he had not to cross his arms defensively.

“Any feedback?” he finally managed.

“Yours is more of a forest, I believe,” Cas said quietly, placing a hand on Dean’s chest. Dean’s heart lurched and grew erratic for a very different reason than before. “Dark things creep through the hidden corners.”

“You’re gonna have to be a little less poetic here, buddy,” Dean said in an attempt at a lighthearted tone. It failed.

Cas leaned in to Dean’s face, and for a heart stopping moment Dean thought he might kiss him, faces close enough that their lips grazed each other with breaths.

“The eyes are the window to the soul,” Cas whispered. Dean shuddered at the way the breath and movement of lips brushed across his mouth. “And I see in yours what is in mine.”

“Shit,” Dean muttered. He couldn’t help himself, hand darting to the back of Cas’ skull as he moved close enough for a proper kiss. Cas sighed into it, and though Dean had his eyes closed like a normal person, he knew that if he opened his eyes Cas would still be staring at him.

He pulled back after a very long moment. Dean rested his forehead against Cas’, drew in breaths that shuddered in his lungs, eyes still squeezed closed because he couldn’t bear to see Cas looking at him like that for another second. Like he was the most precious thing in all of creation, in all of time.

“You are,” Castiel breathed, and Dean remembered abruptly that he wasn’t alone in his head. He laughed weakly.

“If it’s okay with you-”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Cas said hastily, and the naked feeling receded some.

“Did it help?” Dean asked, even though he already knew the answer. He just - he just wanted to hear it out loud. Needed to.

“Yes,” Cas said, pressing another breath stealing kiss to Dean’s lips. “I’ve learned in this experience that what I’m feeling is most often referred to as ‘love’.”

“You say it like a friggin nerd, you know that, right?” Dean said shakily, not risking opening his eyes in case he did something stupid like cry.

“I suppose I do.” Castiel said, and Dean could hear the smile in his voice. 

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! due to someone asking v v nicely i will be writing more in this 'verse, and possibly rewriting this itself in a longer version. thank you for all the compliments and kudos you're all so lovely!!
> 
> on tumblr at [this gorgeous blog ;)](ang3lba3.tumblr.com)


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